


Size

by minniemoments



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam, Cock Slut, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Rough Sex, Size Kink, Toys, Vibrators, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2018-01-15 15:42:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1310200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minniemoments/pseuds/minniemoments
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean calls Sam out on a "secret" kink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Size

**Author's Note:**

> Updated with an alternate ending. Enjoy.

Sam has always been a cockslut. Topping is fun, especially with Dean, but God he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the feeling of being full - even before he and Dean became this. The time spent without Dean was brutal. He had gotten used to his brother’s company and masturbation didn’t seem to have the same appeal anymore. No chick could quite fit him without there being pain. Guys weren’t really his thing; only Dean was the exception. 

Still that being said, he liked being fucked. He liked the possession, the dominance. He liked hearing himself beg - ass high in the air, head bowed, hands clutching the sheets. Never touching himself, no matter how much his cock begged for attention, wouldn’t let Dean touch him either. He wanted to get off with nothing else but that full feeling. Wanted to focus all of his attention on being fucked, how each thrust felt, how he clenched around Dean, how it felt to feel his prostate hammered into - Dean’s special talent, finding his sweet spot with little time wasted. He knew what a whore he could be, how he’d ask for it harder and faster, wanton moans and mewls pouring from his mouth. Dean once teased him about how he sounds like a chick, but Sam knows damn well that his voice alone could get Dean to cum without even being touched.

Still, there were times when even Dean couldn’t give him that feeling - sometimes he wasn’t enough, other times he was just gone. That’s when he broke out the toys. Dean is only vaguely aware that he may or may not possess a rather lengthy and wide vibrator along with a few other things. The first time he used it, it took him less than a minute to climax, only being fully seated for two minutes before turning it up to the maximum setting. It felt good. It hurt and stretched him further than he’d ever been stretched, but it was pleasurable in a sadistic way.  
He couldn’t sit without wincing for three days.

***

Sam heard a faint click as the door unlocked, but it didn’t quite register. He couldn’t take his eyes off the screen, rapt with the near 12-inch cock this cute little twink was impaling himself on. He was hard, painfully so, but resisted touching himself. He wanted to savor the vibrations that went down his spine each time a moan escaped the twink’s mouth. He wondered what it felt like - to take it that way, that large, how filled he would be. Another shudder.

“You like that, baby boy?”  
Sam, startled, felt more than heard the words.  
“Dean...”  
“Such a needy little whore. Can’t even wait for me to come home before needing to cum again.”  
The porno was still playing, but abandoned now. Sam’s eyes fluttered shut, head falling back, his breath coming a bit shorter.  
“You know, Sammy, I told you about trying to get yourself off. You know you can’t do it as well as I can.”  
Dean was nipping at his neck between words, punctuating each sentence with a sharp bite.  
“Want it like that? A nice thick cock ramming into that tight ass of yours, pushing and pushing until you can’t take it anymore. Filling you up ‘till you see stars.”  
A whimper escaped his lips. Dean’s hand skimmed over him, resting on his thigh, just out of reach.  
“Shh, it’s okay, babe. We’ll take it slow. I know how much of a size queen you are. Seen that little toy of yours. I know that you don’t stretch yourself all the way. You like it rough. Take it all in with one push, groaning as you feel yourself clench around it. And then - then it starts to vibrate, and you fucking lose it.”  
“Dean, please.”  
Sam’s hips bucked up, searching for friction.  
“You can’t even contain yourself, just hearing my voice gets you riled up. Such a whore for me, Sam. You want it? Want me to touch you? Fuck you until you can’t walk straight?”  
Dean’s hand rubbed idle circles on Sam’s thigh, Sam bit on his lip, suppressing a moan. Dean tsked and stopped his hand.  
“Don’t deprive me of your voice, Sammy,” Dean whispered into his ear, giving his earlobe a nip. Sam shivered and moaned at the statement.  
“Better,” teased Dean, both hands dancing around his aching cock.  
“Please, Dean. Please, just touch me.”  
“How bad do you want it?”  
“Please, I want it. I need it. Wanna feel your hand wrapped around me, see my cock disappear behind your fingers... I just, please.”  
“Mmm, such a dirty little whore. Maybe I like you like this - on the brink, whimpering and begging like the slut you are. Why don’t you ask me for it?”  
“Dean, please, just - touch me.”

Dean slowly unfastened Sam’s pants, making sure not to brush against him. His mouth took up residence at the base of his brother’s neck, sucking a bruise there. “Lift,” he commanded as he pulled down the material just enough to bare Sam’s erection, slick with precum. Sam groaned as the cool air hit his cock. Dean’s thumbs alternated between rubbing and pressing into his hip bones while his fingers teased at the hair dusting the base of his cock. Sam moaned with pleasure, but he still craved that touch. 

Without warning, Dean wrapped his hand around him and made one long stroke upward, squeezing lightly at the head, whispering “Cum for me”. A shudder, and Sam was spilling over Dean’s hand. His head dropped back onto Dean’s shoulder, breath short, shivers from the aftershock. Dean leisurely removed his hand, fingers dragging along his sensitive shaft, and held them up for Sam to see.  
“Taste.”  
Sam eagerly took two of Dean’s fingers into his mouth, sucking and hollowing out his cheeks.  
“So hot, so quick to please. You like tasting yourself, baby boy?”

Dean gently removed his now wet fingers from Sam’s mouth, letting them trail downward again, ghosting over the slit of his head, cock twitching at the contact. He dragged his fingers down Sam’s length - a whimper - to cup his balls, rolling and tugging them gingerly. Dean toyed with his perineum, pressing slightly, but still avoided Sam’s puckered hole.  
“What a filthy little slut. Already ready for more. If you want it that badly, touch yourself for me. Show me how much you want my cock."  
Sam’s hands automatically move toward his groin, only to be seized before reaching their target. He pouted at the interruption.  
“Move to the bed. I wanna see you work yourself open, legs spread wide. Put on a show for big brother.”

Sam shuddered at the term. It felt so dirty in the situation, perverse yet right. He did as instructed though, moving from the chair to the foot of the bed - pausing to undress while Dean took up his previous residence, legs spread slightly, facing Sam. Sam wanted to rid himself of his clothes quickly, but Dean tsked - his cue to slow down, to strip rather than undress. He forced himself to take his time, slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt before shrugging it off. His fingers danced up and down his sides before he removed his undershirt, tossing it on top of the shirt. His pants, partially pulled down, required less work and presentation, so he simply slid them off - followed by his socks and shoes. 

Fully undressed now, Sam looked over at Dean who seemed to be enjoying himself. He gestured for Sam to move to the bed. He felt like a dog, his only desire to obey his master. Sam should have felt degraded, to be unraveled so quickly and then pressed into service again like an unfeeling object, but part of him enjoyed the little game, so he settled on the bed - back against the headboard, legs open, hands obscuring his crotch from Dean’s view. There was a challenging look in both of their eyes, wondering who would break first and go to the other. 

Sam started slowly. One hand moved to toy with his balls while the other made languid strokes up and down his shaft, still managing to cover himself. From Dean's viewpoint, he could only see hands moving, but the things those hands elicited, the soft moans and the teasing arches, made the scene more sensual than it should have been. Sam must have rubbed his slit or that spot just below his head because he let out a long, loud groan. The sound sent a shudder down Dean's spine and he made something of a growl in response.  
"You're gonna have to do better than that if you want to get fucked tonight, babe," said Dean, words rough and low.

For a moment, Sam stopped. He stood and walked over to their bags, cock bobbing obscenely, and rifled through one of them before finding the desired objects: a vibrator and a tube of lubricant. Sam threw a mischievous grin Dean's way before settling back on the bed, not bothering to cover any part of himself this time.  
"Fuck, Sammy."

The cap on the little tube popped open and Sam squeezed a generous amount on two of his digits. One of the slicked fingers slid down to circle his hole. His other fingers busied themselves with a nipple, pinching and tweaking hard enough to merit a whimper or two.  
"C'mon, Sammy, I thought you liked it rough. Or are you gonna play with yourself all night?"

Sam locked eyes with Dean before thrusting a finger inside. A guttural groan fell from his lips. He began to drive the finger in and out before allowing himself time to relax. The action resulted in a stretching burn, but Sam liked the pain. He could hear himself whine and Dean was faintly grunting his approval. His legs were spread wide, displaying his vulgar movements. Before he could adjust, Sam slipped in another digit, fucking himself back on the two fingers.

Dean was pressing a hand down to his crotch in a vain attempt to quell his erection. It took a considerable effort to stay seated in the chair and not pounce on his brother because damn. With the way Sam was currently positioned, Dean had a full view of everything: neck bared, muscles pulled taut, teeth worrying his bottom lip, a hand gripping the headboard behind him. The show going on below the waist was even more tantalizing: legs spread far, cock twitching every so often from neglect, precum slicking the shaft, hips grinding back on two long fingers.

“Fucking hell, Sammy. I’ve seen prostitutes who look more innocent than you. So damn eager to cum that you don’t care who’s watching. You’re such a little whore for me.”  
“You like it. You call me a slut, but I don’t have a damn thing on you. I’ve caught you staring, Dean. When I drink water, you watch me swallow. When I type, you watch my fingers work. When I stretch, you watch all of those little arches I make. Your gaze is so fucking heavy that I could collapse from its weight. You get off on it though don’t you? Just can’t wait to see me like this. You know, you can touch me if you want.”

Dean growled possessively, but resisted the lure. Sam, unfazed, gave a few more thrusts before slowly withdrawing his fingers. His hands then busied themselves with slicking up the vibrator, using only a little bit of lube. He slid the toy in slowly, allowing himself time to adjust to the size. It was bigger than he remembered, longer and thicker than Dean’s cock. It felt like he was being split in half. For a moment, he thought he was going to pass out from the pain, but then it began to ebb away. It still hurt like a bitch, but there was a slight tingle of pleasure that was enough to regulate his breathing again. Sam felt impossibly full - part of him wanted to jump out his skin, but another part of him liked the burning stretch. It felt good. The tip of the vibrator was pressing against his prostate. He had the presence of mind to flick the toy on and... fuck. He groaned at the sensation. The pleasure started to overwhelm the pain. The toy was sending sweet little vibrations straight to his sweet spot and he lost himself to the feeling - grinding down on the vibrator and moaning from the resulting sensations.

Sam forgot when he closed his eyes, but they snapped open now, jolting him into consciousness. At some point Dean had rid himself of whatever clothing he had been wearing and now he was hovering over Sam, pressing in all of the right places. All of that pent-up desire came pouring out in the form of bites and sucks along the base of his neck - some hard enough to bruise. In the midst of it, Dean was whispering filthy things against his skin.  
“Do you,” a nip, “have any,” another, “idea,” a bite, “how fucking good you look?”  
“Dean...”  
“You know, you’re right? I can’t keep my eyes off you. My sweet baby brother is such a fucking tease. And now you’re laid out in front of me, offering yourself up like a goddamn sacrifice. All of the times I just wanted to pounce, fuck you senseless, just because you drank something. C’mon, babe, let me see how you fuck yourself on that pretty little thing.”  
“Fuck, Dean, yeah.”  
“C’mon, Sammy, I wanna see you cum. That’s all I want, babe. All I need. Just cum for me.”  
“Mmhmm, yeah. All you need?”  
“All I need, baby boy. C’mon, babe. I know you’re almost there.”  
“Fuck, Dean, so close...”  
“Cum for your big brother,” whispered Dean; and with a light touch to Sam’s cock, Sam was cuming. He groaned at the release, shuddering through the aftershocks.

The sight of Sam - mouth forming an “0”, body arching up, legs clenching around Dean - only heightened Dean’s arousal. He rutted messily against Sam’s sensitive cock. Sam’s only response was a whimper at the added stimulation. Dean shushed him and gave a nip to his ear, whispering how good Sam was for letting him use him like this. "Such a good boy for his big brother," he told him. He made promises to fuck him right next time and next time it'll be against a wall. He'd let Sam impale himself on his cock and maybe then he won't need to use his toy to get him off. Maybe he'll break Sam's record for how long it takes to recover from a fucking...

When Dean came, his vision whited out and he painted the two of them in long, thick streams, reaching as far as Sam's hair. He collapsed next to Sam on the bed, breathing heavily.  
“Fuck,” breathed Dean.  
“You’ve got a dirty mouth.”  
“You’re a slut.”  
“You’re a voyeur.”  
“You like it.”  
“Jerk.”  
“Bitch.”  
A kiss and the two drifted off, bodies tangled together.


End file.
